Pink Maiden
by Staphyloplasty
Summary: This is a spiritual sequel to my other Grimm fanfiction, A Cat's Skin. A young queen prays for a child. An angel comes to her and tells her she will have a son with the power of wishing. Anything his heart desires shall be his. What lengths will someone go to to ensure that the power is his?


Once upon a time, Camilla, the queen of a far away land, made her usual rounds in the gardens outside the castle. In her youth she had been beautiful and full of life, but God had cursed her, made her barren. Every morning she would go to the gardens and ask God to give her a child. She would then sit upon a bench and wait for a time before leaving.

That morning was no different, she knelt beneath a willow tree and pled to God in her heart. _Please, let me have a child. It is all I ask. _After repeating her prayer like a mantra, she stood and turned toward the bench overlooking the garden. She listened for an answer, but instead, while she sat upon the bench, she heard footsteps beside her. A young maiden dressed all in white stood, watching Camilla. Her hair was a glowing gold. Light wreathed her and pulsed like a heart beat. All anxieties and worries melted off her shoulders, making her feel younger and lighter.

"I know what it is you seek," the young maiden said and her voice seemed to echo in Camilla's ears.

"How do you know this?" the queen asked, perturbed. She felt no fear, even though it would be an appropriate response.

"You shall have what you seek, a son. He shall have the power of wishing. All that he wants in the world shall be his," the young girl announced.

Then, the sun appeared from behind a cloud, temporarily blinding Camilla. When the sun again disappeared and Camilla could see, the young maiden was gone.

Unnerved by the strange encounter, Camilla hurried back to the castle. Her husband, Petre, stood at the entrance to the garden watching her. His large figure was regal in the afternoon light his curly, auburn hair making an interesting silhouette.

"My dearest, who was that you were talking to?" The king stilled her with a hand, eyeing her with concern.

Camilla looked into her husband's worried eyes. "An angel, I believe," she answered, a soft smile on her lips.

"An angel?" Petre asked incredulously. He was a God fearing man himself, but why would angels visit here? "What is it they spoke to you about?"

"They told me we would have a child, a son, and that any wish his heart desires would be his." Camilla's heart was light and full of joy. Soon, the hole in her heart would be filled and she would have a child.

Petre was more wary then his exuberant wife. If what Camilla had told him was true, a power such as that could be easily abused. Just imagining the terror one could wreak with it made his heart heavy, the wars that could be waged, the lives lost. Maybe it would be advantageous to keep it a secret.

"My love, maybe it would be to our son's best interest if we kept what we've learned today between us. If someone found out, I would rather not ponder what they might do."

Nodding, Camilla placed delicate fingers on Petre's broad shoulders. "I will do as you ask. Are you at the very least pleased at the notion of having a son?" She wanted this to be a happy occasion, not one for scheming and thoughts of betrayal.

"Certainly, dear. I am beyond pleased." Petre petted down Camilla's long dark curls. "I am thrilled we will finally have a whole family."

* * *

Petre watched his wife, love blooming in his heart like all the wild flowers in spring. Camilla stood, facing the window of the nursery, a hand on her rounded belly. A smile never seemed far from her lips. Her curls were braided over one shoulder, exposing the soft skin at her neck. Turning, she grinned at Petre. "What a lovely morning it is."

"Made all the more lovely by your radiant beauty, dearest." Petre moved to stand behind his wife, wrapping his arms tightly around her and placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. His towering frame almost wholly enveloped her.

"It will not be long before we have our son. Our kingdom will have an heir." Camilla moved her husband's hands to her stomach. "I love him already."

"What shall his name be?" Petre asked, swaying gently. "Petre?" The babe kicked in response. Petre felt it hard against his hand.

"I do believe he does not like it," Camilla laughed. "I think he should be named after the angel Gabriel." As an answer, the babe kicked frantically in excitement, though not as hard as before. "He likes it."

"Gabriel it is then." Petre turned Camilla to face him. "Our next son will be named Petre." A dark expression passed over his wife's face. "What bothers you, dearest?"

"What if this gift from God is the only one? What if I am destined to be barren for the rest of eternity?" Placing her hands on Petre's shoulder, she chewed her lip and gazed down at her feet.

"It matters not. If Gabriel is the only one, we will just have to shower him with all the love two parents can muster," Petre reassured. "If the angel spoke true, our son will want for nothing in this world."

Camilla placed her cheek against Petre's chest, clutching at the back of his jacket. With all her heart, she hoped her husband spoke true. All she wanted was her son's safety that the angel had not promised. Joy and fear warred inside the queen's heart.

"All will be right, Camilla," Petre held his wife tenderly. "You need only to have faith in God and in me. I will never let anything happen to you or our son."

"Do you promise?" Camilla plead, placing her hands on either side of Petre's face, curling her fingers into his thick, red beard. "I want our son to be safe and happy, without having to wish it."

"I promise. Our son will never have to use his power of wishing he will be so happy." And Petre meant it with all his heart.

**Petre is pronounced Peter. Also, I love being back here! Writing again feels wonderful! I hope everyone enjoys this story as much as the last! This is another of my favorite Grimm fairy tales.**


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